


The Music Meister Is Back (And This Time It’s GAY)

by Warren_Pace



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: M/M, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warren_Pace/pseuds/Warren_Pace
Summary: Mon-El and Winn are bi disasters, and it may just take come cosmic intervention for them to finally get together.
Relationships: (but it’s actually Mon-El & Winn), David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Mon-El/Winn Schott Jr.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	The Music Meister Is Back (And This Time It’s GAY)

Winn Schott had not been expecting the day to end with a song, nor had he been expecting an extra-dimensional prisoner to escape from his cell like it was child’s play, but after a year of working at the DEO and two years of being best friends with a superhero, it was just another Tuesday.

“Red Alert. We have a security breach.” Hank’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “A being with unknown abilities has escaped his cell. All agents need to be on high alert.”

Winn glanced up from the tablet he’d been using to record the data from Mon-El’s latest training session. “That can’t be good,” he tried to play it off like another day (it was  _ just _ another day), but he was all too aware of his fragile human status every time they went up against a super powered foe.

Mon-El looked over from the training dummy he’d been tossing 50lbs weights at and shrugged, “it’ll be fined.”

Winn laughed, his shoulders relaxing at another of Mon-El’s failed attempts to pick up Earth slang. “ _ Fine _ .”

“Huh?” Mon-El tilted his head like a curious puppy dog and Winn felt his heart skip a beat.

“The word,” Winn said, looking away as his cheeks turned pink. “It’s  _ fine _ , not fined.”

There was a knock on the door and Winn startled, the anxiety that had momentarily calmed flaring up with a vengeance. He glanced at Mon-El uncertainly.

“Winn?” A familiar voice called through the door.

Winn breathed a sigh of relief. “Kara.” He opened the door quickly. Kara stood there, fully decked out in her costume, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Hank tracked the escapee to this floor, I was worried he’d done something to you.”

Winn shook his head, trying to be reassuring even though Kara’s worry only made him more concerned. “I’ll be fine. I’m very good at running away from trouble.”

“I’ll protect him.” Mon-El said, finally moving away from the dummy and over to where Winn and Kara are talking in the doorway.

Kara glanced from Winn to Mon-El and nodded. “Yell if you need help, I’ll be listening for you.”

Winn nodded. “Let us know when you find him.”

Things seemed to be going better. So of course the second Kara left the room everything went wrong. 

“Hmm.” A vaguely British sounding voice hummed from the back of the room. “It’s awfully drab, have you ever considered come curtains or a new coat of paint?”

Winn and Mon-El turned away from the door quickly to find a dark-haired man in a green suit examining the wall of the training room critically.

“No?” The odd man continued, wiping a finger across the wall and peering at it disdainfully. “Quite dusty too, now that just won’t  _ do _ .” The last word turned into a high note as he waved his arms and the room suddenly looked like a fancy British tearoom (complete with sunshine yellow walls, frilly curtains, and a small wooden table covered in lace doilies).

As the man spoke Mon-El pushed Winn behind him protectively. Neither of them were quite sure what to make of him. It was logical to assume that he was the escape prisoner, and, although the ability to materialize all of these things out of thin air was concerning, he didn’t seem like an immediate threat.

He stared at the walls once again. “Hmm. That’s no better.” He waved his hand again and all the trappings vanished as though they’d never been there in the first place.

“Who are you?” Winn called from behind Mon-El, trying not to appear afraid.

The man seemed to notice the two of them for the first time. “Me.” He raised his hands, a top hat appearing in one hand and a cane in the other. He set the hat jauntily on his head and twirled the cane through the air. “Why, I’m the Music Meister.”

Winn quirked an eyebrow. The villains always insisted on naming themselves, it was rather disappointing for Winn who had decades worth of comics knowledge saved up and was quite prepared to name any foe they came across. Still, he had to admit, it  _ was _ a cool name. 

The Music Meister examined Mon-El and Winn just as critically as he’d examined the walls and it made Winn uneasy. “There’s an awful lot of unresolved tension there.” He tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, “all spark and no bite? Well, that just won’t do at all.” With those words he vanished.

Winn blinked a few times, suddenly uncertain if the man had ever actually been there.

There was a clapping sound behind them and Winn turned quickly. The Music Meister stood just a few feet from Winn, well within arm’s reach.

“How about a helping hand?” The Music Meister flashed a dazzling smile, and then, quick as the Flash, reached out a hand and tapped Winn on the forehead.

Winn stood there, confused, for a moment. He was certain nothing had happened when the world began to tilt. The last thing he was aware of was slumping into Mon-El’s chest before everything went black.

“Jack?” Hands are shaking Winn. “Jack. Get up, the morning bell is ringin’.”

“Huh.” Winn sat up groggily, disoriented by his odd surroundings. “What’s going on?”

He appeared on the roof of a building on a cot, some sort of metal railing ran along one side of the roof. There was a tube of papers, shoved into an alcove and sheltered from the wind. 

The person who had been shaking him (a young boy of about 14 with sandy blonde hair and a crutch) laughed. “Ey, how much of that whiskey did you’s drink last night?”

Suddenly the boy froze, that in itself was not odd, but the wind died down in an instant and the cloth on the railing stopped mid-flutter.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” A new voice shocked Winn. He glanced to his right to find the Music Meister looking down at him in concern. 

Winn was quickly getting fed up with whatever game he was playing. “Where’s Mon-El?” 

The Music Meister smiled gleefully, “that’s part of the game.”

Winn sighed, resigned to the fact that playing along might be his only option. “How do I play?”

The other man clapped his hands, looking like a child who had been given a cookie (it was an expression that Mon-El often made when Winn agreed to get drinks with him, but thinking about that at the moment filled him with worry). “Follow the story and sing.”

“But I can’t sing.” It admittedly seemed like an odd thing to point out at the moment, but Winn wasn’t sure what would happen if he couldn’t play the game. 

“Are you sure about that?” With those words, and a wink, the Music Meister vanished and everything snapped back into place.

“Jack. We’s gotta get the papes.” 

The blonde boy was looking at him in concern and Winn decided that just going with it might be his best option. “Yeah, sure.” He stood up and moved over to the fire escape.

This did nothing to ease the concern on the other boy’s face. 

“You’s forgettin’ a shirt.” Said shirt hit him in the face directly following these words Winn, and he caught it awkwardly, finger just managing to hook in the collar. “Did Kath kiss ya stupid or somethin’?”

Winn resists the urge to ask who that is, knowing it would only raise suspicion. “Something like that,” he muttered as he tugged on the shirt. 

“Hey, Crutchie, you’s coming?” A voice shouted up the fire escape.

“Hold yer horses, Racer.” Crutchie shouted back. “Jackie’s still dreamin’ ‘bout his sweetheart.”

There was a whoop, and an appreciative murmur ran through what certainly sounded like a group of teenage boys.

Somehow Winn managed to get from the roof to the distribution center (at least that’s what the sign says, but he’d heard it called various demeaning names in the space of 30 seconds by all the boys as they entire. So, he wasn’t entirely certain what it was called).

He got into line with the others because that seemed like the right thing to do. The boy in front of him moved to the front of the line.

The man behind the desk took a puff from his cigar, before yelling to the boys behind him. “Fifty papes for the racer.” The boy slapped something down on the desk and took the offered stack of papers.

The man took one look at Winn and laughed. He called over his shoulder, “hundred papes for the cowboy.” The man looked at him expectantly, “you gonna pay, wise guy?”

“Uh.” He fished around in his pocket, finding no wallet and only a handful of change.

A hand reached in front of him, and dropped two quarters on the desk. “I got this, Jackie.” Winn glanced at the owner of the arm and was surprised to find Mon-El winking at him.

Winn’s face turned bright red and he ducked away, taking the stack of papers quickly. The other boys swarmed around him though, murmuring enthusiastic greetings. One stood out from the rest though, “hey, Davey.”

“Hiya, Crutchie.” Whereas all the other boys spoke with a very old time yankee accent, Mon-El, or at least this boy who looked like him, spoke with the same twang, but his words were carefully articulated and grammatically correct. “Did you guys drop Jackie on his head again?” 

The boys chuckled and one responded snarkily, “nah. He’s always been slow.”

“Like you’s one to talk, Racer.” One of the other boys called back as the group devolved into a playful tussling match. 

Winn dragged Mon-El off to the side as the boys tussled. “Is it you?” Winn asked him critically, trying not to sound like a crazy person in case it wasn’t actually Mon-El. 

“Of course it is.” Mon-El said, immediately dropping whatever accent he’d been faking. “Did you see the Music Meister once you got in here?”

Winn nodded, “he told me to play the game and sing and I’d…” see you again. “Well, we found each other. So, what now?”

Mon-El shrugged, “maybe all it takes is a kiss.”

“What?” Winn spluttered, his entire face turning red. 

“Kara told me that everything is worked out with a kiss,” he looked at Winn’s face, gauging his reaction. “Is that not how things work?”

He was mentally strangling Kara for telling Mon-El that, while also trying to stop imagining what it would be like to have Mon-El kiss him (admittedly this was not a new thought, but at the moment they needed to focus on figuring the game out).

“Uh.” Winn tried to focus on giving Mon-El an intelligent response to his words. “No.” He nearly smacked himself in the face. “Kisses only solve everything in fairy tales.”

Winn was saved the embarrassment of having to say anything else by one of the boys shouting at them. “Hey, Cowboy. You’s girl is here.” There was a series of whoops and catcalls, following this exclamation.

Winn turned in the direction of the voice and froze, because standing directly in front of the group of cheering boys was Kara.  _ No _ , Winn shook himself mentally,  _ not Kara _ . The clothes were all wrong, a high-collared dress that reached down to her ankles and her hair was done up in simple curls. With a spiral notebook clutched in one hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear, she looked every bit like Kara would have, had she landed on Earth a century and a half earlier. 

_ No, that wasn’t quite right _ . There was an air about her, Winn had spent the better part of a year watching Kara, and he knew that however much this girl might look like her, she wasn’t Kara.

She noticed Winn’s gaze and smiled at him, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “Are you going to hide over there all day, Cowboy?”

“Uh.” The other boys laughed at Winn’s tongue tied impression. The girl rolled her eyes and walked over to him gracefully.

“Careful, Kath.” One of the boys hollered, “you’s scrambled his brains last time.”

She stepped closer to him as the boys continued to hoot and holler. “Nice to see you didn’t run off to Santa Fé quite yet, Jack.”

Winn could only nod dumbly and smile. Maybe it wasn’t Kara, but she was still standing so close and looking at him in a way that Kara never had and it was honestly breaking his brain. He raised a hand to her cheek gently, because it was all he could do not to kiss her.

A cough startled Winn out of his trance. He glanced away from Kath? (he’s pretty sure that’s what the boys called her) and looked to his right. Mon-El was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“Kath.” Winn tested the name on his tongue carefully, “I need to talk to Davey for a moment.” Winn’s voice stuttered a little, as he tried to remember the name that the others had called Mon-El. Kath looked at him oddly, but didn’t protest.

Mon-El dragged Winn a few feet away, far enough that they could talk, but close enough that the others shouldn’t get suspicious. 

“What are you doing?” Mon-El sounded angry, but Winn couldn’t guess why.

Winn’s cheeks burned with shame, “we’re supposed to play the game.” It was an excuse and they both knew it.

Mon-El’s jaw clenched and he looked away for a moment. “So you were just going to  _ kiss _ her and  _ pretend _ she was Kara?” 

Winn was suddenly angry. He had been mooning over Mon-El for months and he’d never once looked at Winn like that. How dare he judge Winn when he’d finally gotten the chance to kiss the girl he’d been in love with for over a year. “Like you wouldn’t have taken the opportunity to kiss her,” Winn bit back, not caring how petty it sounded. 

“I wouldn’t.” Mon-El’s voice was soft. “Maybe when I first met her, but not  _ now _ .”

Winn’s anger faltered for a moment, shock flooding his senses instead. “What…” Winn was suddenly aware of how much closer he’d stepped to Mon-El, his anger driving him to get directly in the other’s face. Now, though, there was another feeling driving him to stay close to Mon-El, one that he only admitted to himself when Mon-El wasn’t looking. “Mon.”

“Jackie,” one of the boys called, and Winn suddenly remembered where they were. He backed away from Mon-El hurriedly.

The rest of the day passed quickly, or at least it seemed to, time passed oddly in the game. The day somehow seemed to last minutes, while also lasting a few hours. 

Hawking the papers was easier to learn than Winn thought it would be, or maybe the Music Meister had designed the game to be easier if he just played along. Winn and Mon-El had paired together naturally, neither of them eager to play the game alone (never mind that now that he’d found Mon-El, Winn was reluctant to let him go). Thankfully, the others had considered this normal behavior and let it go without comment. 

Kath had been looking at him strangely, but Winn didn’t think much of it. Hopefully they’d finish the game before she got suspicious. 

By the time the sun had set, Winn was tired and exhausted, he’d spent all day walking and yelling in the hot sun. He leaned against Mon-El as they walked, “maybe he’s trying to teach us that work is hard.” Winn said, half heartedly, just wanting the game to be over. 

Mon-El laughed, which turned into a yawn as one of his arms came to rest around Winn’s shoulders. Winn’s head nestled further into Mon-El’s shoulder, nearly falling asleep even as he walked. Mon-El’s arm tightened around Winn’s shoulders as he yawned again. 

The clack of cobblestone under a boot sounded behind them. Winn was too sleepy to do more than vaguely cast his eyes to the right, but Mon-El looked behind them and froze. Winn sensed the change immediately, an air of danger temporarily dissipating the sleepy fog in his brain. 

Standing behind them on the dimly lit street were the two boys who’d stood behind the counter with the cigar smoking man. They had matching hats and sour expressions on their faces, one was brandishing a small black pistol (only just visible because of the light from the street lamp glinting off of it).

“I thought you knew better, Jackie boy.” One of them taunted, a tight sneer stretching his face eerily in the low light. “This ain’t the kinda company you should keep at night.”

“Had a feeling about you,” the one holding the gun continued, “nothin’ quite right with any of you’s Newsies. But you, you’s inspire the others to do this too.” He pointed his gun at Mon-El instead.

“Look,” Winn started, trying to move in front of Mon-El, but the second that he moved the gun was back on him, keeping him frozen in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, let’s just put the gun down and we can talk about this.” But Winn had a sinking feeling that he  _ did _ know what this was about, they must’ve been sent to a much earlier place in time than he’d originally thought. 

“Huh, whad’ya know?” The one without the gun smiled crookedly, “he’s talkin’ fancy now. Guess he has been spending too much time with Dave.”

Mon-El moved forward, taking the gun and the focus off Winn. Mon-El kept moving toward the two, seemingly unbothered by the threats and insults they hurled at him. Winn stood frozen with terror. Mon-El was upping the danger in a clearly already dangerous game, they had no way of knowing if he was still bullet proof.

However, Mon-El didn’t seem to have nearly the same reservations as Winn, he was now halfway from their would-be attackers (an arrogant determined smile firmly on his face).

“Stop.” The boy leveled the gun at Mon-El’s chest, his hand shaking slightly. “I will shoot.”

Mon-El spread his arms wide in an inviting gesture.

_ Bang _ .

The shot went wide. 

Both boys took off, suddenly terrified of the weapon they had brought.

“See,” Mon-El said, smiling. “This game isn’t too hard.” His gaze dropped to Winn’s torso, the grin on his face froze and then fell. 

Winn collapsed to his knees, blooding leaking through his shirt. The shot hadn’t gone wide by much, just far enough to miss Mon-El and go right through Winn. Exhaustion and blood loss were coupling together in his brain, making the world feel sluggish and distorted.

Something warm wrapped around Winn. He hoped it was Mon-El, but it could easily have been his own blood as he lay on the cobbles. 

“Winn, Winn.” Maybe Mon-El was shouting or maybe he was whispering. There was a wringing in Winn’s ears that threatened to drown out every other sound. He groaned as a hot wave of pain rippled through his abdomen.

There was a swirl of green in the corner of his vision and Winn wondered if the white light he’d heard so much about was green after all. 

“Pity.” Said a familiar voice, “I’d hoped to have a little more entertainment than this.” The Music Meister almost sounded bored as he examined the scene before him. “Well, you know what to do.” He prompted Mon-El, who’d been staring at him, frozen with shock. “Hurry now, it doesn’t look like you have much time left.”

“Mon.” Winn groaned, trying to make sense of the conversation. “What is it? Did he tell you how to beat the game?” The last words were barely a whisper, it was hard to breath.

Mon-El took a deep breath and started to sing, “ _ we were never meant to meet. And then we met. Why knows why _ ,” Mon-El tried to focus on the song even as a trickle of blood ran out of Winn’s mouth and down his chin. His next words were watery as he struggled to regain his composure. “ _ One more stranger on the street, just someone sweet passing by. _ ” The next words lodged in his throat, thinking of Winn as an angel felt far too literal at the moment. “ _ An angel come to save me. Who didn’t even know he gave me something to believe in for even a day. One day may be forever _ ,” that’s not  okay . 

Winn felt a surge of warmth run through him as Mon-El sang. It took him a moment to figure out that the warmth was more than just a glow in his heart, something odd was happening to his wound. On impulse, he put his fingers to the wound and they came away less red than before. “ _ But that’s okay _ .” Winn continued for Mon-El, since it seemed the latter’s voice had given out for the moment. “ _ And if I’m gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be _ .” Because it was theirs, wasn’t it? (Even if they’d never acknowledged it)

Winn grabbed Mon-El’s hand with all of the strength he could muster. “ _ I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me _ .”

Mon-El nodded, squeezing back just as fiercely, “ _ Do you know what I believe in? Look into my eyes and see. _ ” A tear ran down Mon-El’s cheek and Winn reached up to wipe it away gently. “It was you, always you.” He whispered, kissing Winn’s forehead.

And then everything went dark. 


End file.
